Page 73 of Falling Back to You

“Nah, I’m only happy now that you’re here. Ask Brandon.”

“He is far from my favourite patient,” Brandon confirmed.

Noelle chuckled. “I guess some things never change.” She squeezed my shoulder, lingering a moment. “I’ll be around to help with Khia.”

“Thanks.”

“I better get back. Unless I can help—”

“I’m good.” The sooner I got her away from Brandon, the sooner the annoying burning in my lungs would go away.

Her shoulders deflated a fraction. Right, she’d always struggled with feeling needed.

“If you can watch Khia until I’m back, that’d be great. If I get in too late, maybe she can stay the night?”

Noelle’s face lifted. “Of course!” With another smile, she slipped out of the locker room.

Brandon bit the inside of his cheek, but the amused grin snuck out anyway. “The rumours are true. You’re smitten, man.”

I glared at him. “And you were flirting.”

He stared at me then cackled. “Dude, I was your wingman. Trust me, I’m not messing with your girl.”

She wasn’t mine. Not anymore. Not yet.

Chapter twenty-four

Noelle & Cal

Noelle

I took Khia back to my place before the game ended. Though I’d reassured her Cal was all right, her tearstained face was pale with exhaustion.

“Is Daddy really okay?” Khia asked, her lower lip trembling as I tucked her on the small air mattress I’d set up in the corner of my room.

“He needed to see a doctor, but he’ll be right as rain soon,” I promised.

She sniffled.

“Oh, sweetie.” I tugged her into my lap.

Her small arms wrapped around my neck like an octopus, and she sobbed against my shoulder. “I want my daddy. I don’t want him to die, too.”

I rubbed her back. “Your daddy’s okay. He’ll be okay.”

“You promise?” she hiccuped against my neck.

Gently, I rubbed my hand up and down her back. “I promise.”

She sniffled harder, and I started humming softly. The sobs quieted to whimpers, and then her tired little body sagged in my arms.

Only once her breathing evened out did I let her go, carefully slipping her under the covers before I crept out of the room. My back spasmed from sitting in one position like that and from the hardness of the arena seats earlier.

But it was more than that.

The rush of adrenaline and emotion at seeing Cal hurt surprised me. I was no stranger to horrific injuries far worse than Cal’s, but tonight, my hands shook as I clicked the kettle on.

I didn’t handle stress the same way I used to. Maybe it was because I was finally working on not shoving all my emotions as far down as the Mariana Trench.